---
title: "Hymns Celebrating the Mysteries"
author: "Jeremy Taylor"
tradition: "Anglican"
era: "Post-Reformation"
genre: "Exegesis"
source: "The Golden Grove, Jeremy Taylor. London: Printed by J.F. for R. Royston at the Angel in Ivie-lane, 1655. Text sourced from Project Canterbury (anglicanhistory.org)."
accession: "STROMATA № 91"
url: "https://www.thestromata.com/texts/hymns-celebrating-the-mysteries-and-chief-festivals-of-the-year"
downloaded: "2026-09-14"
---

# Hymns Celebrating the Mysteries
*Jeremy Taylor*

> Downloaded from The Stromata (thestromata.com). Free for personal, educational, and ministry use.

## Introduction

Composed during Taylor's enforced retirement in Wales after the Royalist defeat, when the Book of Common Prayer was outlawed and Anglican worship driven underground, these hymns were meant to keep the liturgical year alive in private hands, particularly among the young. Taylor follows the calendar from Advent through the Passion and Ascension, recasting the festivals in metaphysical verse that owes much to Herbert and Crashaw while pointing forward to the eighteenth-century hymnody of Watts and the Wesleys. The voice is unmistakably that of the author of *Holy Living* and *Holy Dying*: ornate, emblematic, and unembarrassed by sweetness. Read these as devotional exercises rather than poems for the page, they were built to be memorized, sung, and folded into daily prayer.

---

# Hymns Celebrating the Mysteries and Chief Festivals of the Year

*According to the manner of the Ancient Church: fitted to the fancy and devotion
of the younger and pious persons. Apt for memory, and to be joyned to their other Prayers.*

---

## Hymns for Advent

*Or the weeks immediately before the Birth of our blessed Saviour.*

### I.

When Lord, O when shall we  
Our dear Salvation see?  
Arise, arise,  
Our fainting eyes  
Have long'd all night, and 'twas a long one too.  
Man never yet could say  
He saw more then one day,  
One day of Edens seven:  
The guilty hours there blasted with the breath  
Of sin and death,  
Have ever since worn a nocturnal hue.  
But thou hast given us hopes that we  
At length another day shall see,  
Wherein each vile neglected place,  
Gilt with the aspect of thy face,  
Shall be like that, the porch and gate of Heaven.  
How long, dear God, how long!  
See how the Nations throng:  
All humane kinde  
Knit and combin'd  
Into one body, look for thee their Head.  
Pity our multitude,  
Lord, we are vile and rude,  
Headless and sensless without thee,  
Of all things but the want of thy blest face,  
O haste apace;  
And thy bright self to this our body wed,  
That through the influx of thy power,  
Each part that er'st confusion wore  
May put on order, and appear  
Spruce as the childhood of the year,  
When thou to it shalt so united be. Amen.

### II. Christs coming to Jerusalem in triumph

Lord come away,  
Why dost thou stay?  
Thy rode is ready; and thy paths made strait  
With longing expectation wait  
The Consecration of thy beauteous feet.  
Ride on triumphantly, behold we lay  
Our lusts and proud wills in thy way.  
Hosanna! welcome to our hearts. Lord here  
Thou hast a Temple too, and full as dear  
As that of Sion; and as full of sin,  
Nothing but Thieves and Robbers dwell therein;  
Enter, and chase them forth & cleanse the floore;  
Crucifie them, that they may never more  
Profane that holy place  
Where thou hast chose to set thy face.  
And then if our stiff tongues shall be  
Mute in the praises of thy Deity,  
The stones out of the Temple wall  
Shall cry aloud and call  
Hosanna! and thy glorious footsteps greet. Amen.

---

## Hymns for Christmas-day

### I.

Mysterious truth! that the self same should be  
A Lamb, a Shepherd, and a Lion too!  
Yet such was he  
Whom first the shepherds knew,  
When they themselves became  
Sheep to the Shepherd Lambe.  
Shepherd of Men and Angels, Lamb of God,  
Lion of Judah, by these Titles keep  
The Wolf from thy indangered Sheep.  
Bring all the world unto thy Fold,  
Let Jews and Gentiles hither come  
In numbers great that can't be told,  
And call thy Lambs that wander, home.  
Glory be to God on high,  
All glories be to th'glorious Deity.

### II. A Dialogue between three Shepherds

**1.**  
Where is this blessed Babe  
That hath made  
All the world so full of joy  
And expectation;  
That glorious boy  
That crowns each Nation  
With a triumphant wreath of blessedness?

**2.**  
Where should he be but in the throng,  
And among  
His Angel Ministers, that sing  
And take wing  
Just as may Echo to his Voyce,  
And rejoyce,  
When wing and tongue and all  
May so procure their happiness?

**3.**  
But he hath other Waiters now,  
A poor Cow,  
An Ox and Mule stand and behold,  
And wonder,  
That a stable should enfold  
Him that can thunder.

*Chorus.* O what a gracious God have we?  
How good, how great! even as our misery.

### III. Of Christs birth in an Inne

The blessed Virgin travail'd without pain,  
And lodged in an Inne,  
A glorious Star the signe  
But of a greater guest then ever came that way,  
For there he lay  
That is the God of Night and Day,  
And over all the pow'rs of heaven doth reign.  
It was the time of great Augustus Tax,  
And then he comes  
That payes all sums,  
Even the whole price of lost humanity,  
And sets us free  
From the ungodly Emperie  
Of Sin, and Satan, and of Death.  
O make our hearts, blest God, thy lodging place,  
And in our brest  
Be pleas'd to rest,  
For thou lov'st Temples better then an Inne,  
And cause that sin  
May not profane the Deity within,  
And sully o're the ornaments of Grace. Amen.

---

## A Hymn upon S. Johns day

This day  
We sing  
The friend of our eternal King,  
Who in his bosome lay,  
And kept the Keys  
Of his profound and glorious Mysteries:  
Which to the world dispensed by his hand,  
Made it stand  
Fix'd in amazement to behold that light  
Which came  
From the Throne of the Lamb,  
To invite  
Our wretched eyes (which nothing else could see  
But fire, and sword, hunger and miserie)  
To anticipate by their ravish'd sight  
The beauty of Celestial delight.  
Mysterious God, regard me when I pray:  
And when this load of clay  
Shall fall away,  
O let thy gracious hand conduct me up,  
Where on the Lambs rich viands I may sup:  
And in this last Supper I  
May with thy friend in thy sweet bosome lie  
For ever in Eternity.  
Allelujah.

---

## Upon the day of the holy Innocents

Mournful Judah shreeks and cries  
At the obsequies  
Of their Babes, that cry  
More that they lose the paps, then that they die.  
He that came with life to all,  
Brings the Babes a funeral,  
To redeem from slaughter him  
Who did redeem us all from sin.  
They like himself went spotless hence,  
A sacrifice to Innocence;  
Which now does ride  
Trampling upon Herods pride:  
Passing from their fontinels of clay  
To heaven a milky and a bloody way.  
All their tears and groans are dead,  
And they to rest and glory fled;  
Lord, who wert pleas'd so many babes should fall,  
Whil'st each sword hop'd that every of the All  
Was the desir'd King: make us to be  
In Innocence like them, in Glory, thee. Amen.

---

## Upon the Epiphany

*And the three wise men of the East coming to worship Jesus.*

A Comet dangling in the aire  
Presag'd the ruine both of Death and Sin;  
And told the wise-men of a King,  
The King of Glory, and the Sun  
Of Righteousness, who then begun  
To draw towards that blessed Hemisphere.  
They from the furthest East this new  
And unknown light pursue,  
Till they appeare  
In this blest Infants King's propitious eye,  
And pay their homage to his Royalty.  
Persia might then the rising Sun adore,  
It was Idolatry no more:  
Great God, they gave to thee  
Myrrhe, Frankincense, and Gold:  
But Lord, with what shall we  
Present our selves before thy Majesty,  
Whom thou redeem'dst when we were sold?  
W'have nothing but our selves, & scarce that neither,  
Vile dirt and clay:  
Yet it is soft, and may  
Impression take:  
Accept it, Lord, and say, this thou had'st rather;  
Stamp it, and on this sordid metal make  
Thy holy Image, and it shall out-shine  
The beauty of the golden Myne. Amen.

---

## A Meditation of the Four Last Things

*Death, Judgment, Heaven, Hell. For the time of Lent especially.*

### Of Death

Death, the old Serpents Son,  
Thou had'st a sting once like thy Sire,  
That carried Hell, and ever-burning fire:  
But those black dayes are done;  
Thy foolish spite buried thy sting  
In the profound and wide  
Wound of our Saviours side.  
And now thou art become a tame and harmless thing,  
A thing we dare not fear  
Since we hear  
That our triumphant God to punish thee  
For the affront thou didst him on the Tree,  
Hath snatcht the keyes of Hell out of thy hand,  
And made thee stand  
A Porter to the gate of Life, thy mortal enemie.  
O thou who art that Gate, command that he  
May when we die  
And thither flie,  
Let us into the Courts of Heaven through thee.  
Allelujah.

*The Prayer.*

My Soul doth pant tow'rds thee  
My God, Source of eternal life:  
Flesh fights with me,  
Oh end the strife  
And part us, that in peace I may  
Unclay  
My wearied spirit, and take  
My flight to thy eternal Spring;  
Where for his sake  
Who is my King,  
I may wash all my tears away  
That day.  
Thou Conqueror of Death,  
Glorious triumpher o're the Grave,  
Whose holy breath  
Was spent to save  
Lost Mankinde; make me to be stil'd  
Thy Child,  
And take me when I dye,  
And go unto my dust, my Soul  
Above the sky  
With Saints enroll,  
That in thy arms for ever I  
May lye. Amen.

### Of the Day of Judgement

Great Judge of all, how we vile wretches quake!  
Our guilty bones do ake,  
Our marrow freezes, when we think  
Of the consuming fire  
Of thine ire;  
And horrid phials thou shalt make  
The wicked drink,  
When thou the winepress of thy wrath shalt tread  
With feet of lead.  
Sinful rebellious clay! what unknown place  
Shall hide it from thy face!  
When earth shall vanish from thy fight,  
The heavens that never err'd,  
But observ'd  
Thy laws, shal from thy presence take their flight,  
And kil'd with glory, their bright eyes, stark dead  
Start from their head:  
Lord, how shall we,  
Thy enemies, endure to see  
So bright, so killing Majesty?  
Mercy dear Saviour: Thy Judgement seat  
We dare not Lord intreat;  
We are condemn'd already, there.  
Mercy: vouchsafe one look  
On thy book  
Of life; Lord we can read the saving Jesus, here,  
And in his Name our own Salvation see:  
Lord set us free,  
The book of sin  
Is cross'd within,  
Our debts are paid by thee.  
Mercy.

### Of Heaven

O Beauteous God, uncircumscribed treasure  
Of an eternal pleasure,  
Thy Throne is seated far  
Above the highest Star,  
Where thou prepar'st a glorious place  
Within the brightness of thy face  
For every spirit  
To inherit  
That builds his hopes on thy merit,  
And loves thee with a holy charity.  
What ravish'd heart, Seraphick tongue or eyes,  
Clear as the mornings rise,  
Can speak, or think, or see  
That bright eternity?  
Where the great Kings transparent Throne,  
Is of an intire Jaspar stone:  
There the eye  
O'th'Chrysolite,  
And a sky  
Of Diamonds, Rubies, Chrysoprase,  
And above all, thy holy face  
Makes an eternal Clarity,  
When thou thy Jewels up dost binde: that day  
Remember us, we pray,  
That where the Beryl lyes  
And the Crystal, 'bove the skyes,  
There thou may'st appoint us place  
Within the brightness of thy face;  
And our Soul  
In the Scrowl  
Of life and blissfulness enrowl,  
That we may praise thee to eternity.  
Allelujah.

### Of Hell

Horrid darkness, sad and fore,  
And an eternal Night,  
Groans and shrieks, and thousands more  
In the want of glorious light:  
Every corner hath a Snake  
In the accursed lake:  
Seas of fire, beds of snow  
Are the best delights below,  
A Viper from the fire  
Is his hire  
That knows not moments from Eternity.  
Glorious God of Day and Night,  
Spring of eternal Light,  
Allelujahs, Hymns and Psalms,  
And Coronets of Palms  
Fill thy Temple evermore.  
O mighty God,  
Let not thy bruising rod  
Crush our loins with an eternal pressure;  
O let thy mercy be the measure,  
For if thou keepest wrath in store  
We all shall die,  
And none be left to glorifie  
Thy Name, and tell  
How thou hast sav'd our souls from Hell.  
Mercy.

---

## On the Conversion of S. Paul

Full of wrath, his threatning breath  
Belching nought, but chains and death:  
Saul was arrested in his way  
By a voice and a light,  
That if a thousand dayes  
Should joyn rayes  
To beautifie one day,  
It would not shew so glorious and so bright.  
On his amazed eyes it night did fling,  
That day might break within;  
And by those beams of Faith  
Make him of a childe of wrath  
Become a vessel full of glory.  
Lord curb us in our dark and sinful way,  
We humbly pray,  
When we down horrid precipices run  
With feet that thirst to be undone,  
That this may be our story.  
Allelujah.

---

## On the Purification of the blessed Virgin

Pure and spotless was the Maid  
That to the Temple came,  
A pair of Turtle-doves she paid,  
Although she brought the Lamb.  
Pure and spotless though she were,  
Her body chaste, and her soul faire,  
She to the Temple went  
To be purifi'd  
And try'd,  
That she was spotless and obedient.  
O make us to follow so blest Precedent,  
And purifie our souls, for we  
Are cloth'd with sin and misery.  
From our conception  
One imperfection,  
And a continued state of sin,  
Hath sullied all our faculties within.  
We present our souls to thee  
Full of need and misery:  
And for Redemption a Lamb  
The purest, whitest that e're came  
A Sacrifice to thee,  
Even he that bled upon the Tree.

---

## On Good-Friday

The Lamb is eaten, and is yet again  
Preparing to be slain;  
The Cup is full and mixt,  
And must be drunk:  
Wormwood and gall  
To this, are draughts to beguile care withall,  
Yet the Decree is fixt.  
Doubled knees, and groans, and cries,  
Prayers and sighs, and flowing eyes  
Could not intreat.  
His sad Soul sunk  
Under the heavy pressure of our sin:  
The pains of Death and Hell  
About him dwell.  
His Fathers burning wrath did make  
His very heart, like melting wax, to sweat  
Rivers of blood,  
Through the pure strainer of his skin:  
His boiling body stood  
Bubling all o're,  
As if the wretched whole were but one dore  
To let in pain and grief,  
And turn out all relief.  
O thou, who for our sake  
Didst drink up  
This bitter Cup:  
Remember us, we pray,  
In thy day,  
When down  
The strugling throats of wicked men  
The dregs of thy just fury shall be thrown.  
Oh then  
Let thy unbounded mercy think  
On us, for whom  
Thou underwent'st this heavy doom,  
And give us of the well of life to drink. Amen.

---

## On the Annunciation to the blessed Virgin

A Winged harbinger from bright heav'n flown,  
Bespeaks a lodging room  
For the mighty King of Love,  
The spotless structure of a Virgin womb,  
O'reshadow'd with the wings of the blest Dove:  
For he was travelling to earth,  
But did desire to lay  
By the way,  
That he might shift his clothes, and be  
A perfect Man as well as we.  
How good a God have we! who for our sake,  
To save us from the burning lake,  
Did change the order of Creation:  
At first he made  
Man like himself in his own Image; now  
In the more blessed reparation  
The Heavens bow:  
Eternity took the measure of a span,  
And said,  
Let us make our self like Man,  
And not from Man the Woman take,  
But from the Woman, Man.  
Allelujah: we adore  
His Name, whose goodness hath no store.  
Allelujah.

---

## Easter Day

What glorious light!  
How bright a Sun after so sad a night  
Does now begin to dawn! Bless'd were those eyes  
That did behold  
This Sun when he did first unfold  
His glorious beams, and now begin to rise:  
It was the holy tender Sex  
That saw the first ray:  
Saint Peter and the other, had the reflex,  
The second glimpse o'th'day.  
Innocence had the first, and he  
That fled, and then did penance, next did see  
The glorious Sun of Righteousness  
In his new dress  
Of triumph, immortality, and bliss.  
O dearest God preserve our souls  
In holy innocence;  
Or if we do amiss,  
Make us to rise again to th'life of Grace,  
That we may live with thee, and see thy glorious face,  
The crown of holy Penitence.  
Allelujah.

---

## On the day of Ascension

He is risen higher, not set:  
Indeed a cloud  
Did with his leave make bold to shroud  
The Sun of Glory from Mount Olivet.  
At Pentecost hee'll shew himself again,  
When every ray shall be a tongue  
To speak all comforts, and inspire  
Our Souls with their celestial fire;  
That we the Saints among  
May sing, and love, and reign.  
Amen.

---

## On the Feast of Pentecost, or Whitsunday

Tongues of fire from heaven descend  
With a mighty rushing wind,  
To blow it up and make  
A living fire  
Of heavenly Charity, and pure desire,  
Where they their residence should take.  
On the Apostles sacred heads they sit,  
Who now like Beacons do proclaim and tell  
Th'invasion of the host of Hell;  
And give men warning to defend  
Themselves from the inraged brunt of it.  
Lord, let the flames of holy Charity,  
And all her gifts and graces slide  
Into our hearts, and there abide;  
That thus refined, we may soar above  
With it unto the element of Love,  
Even unto thee dear Spirit,  
And there eternal peace and rest inherit.  
Amen.

---

## Penitentiall Hymns

### I.

LOrd, I have sinn'd, & the black number swells  
To such a dismal sum,  
That should my stony heart and eyes,  
And this whole sinful trunk, a flood become,  
And run to tears, their drops could not suffice  
To count my score,  
Much less to pay:  
But thou, my God, hast blood in store,  
And art the Patron of the poore.  
Yet since the Balsam of thy Blood,  
Although it can, will do no good,  
Unless the wounds be cleans'd with tears before;  
Thou in whose sweet but pensive face  
Laughter could never steal a place,  
Teach but my heart and eyes  
To melt away,  
And then one drop of Balsam will suffice. Amen.

### II.

Great God, and just! how canst thou fee,  
Dear God, our miserie,  
And not in mercy set us free?  
Poor miserable man! how wert thou born,  
Weak as the dewy jewels of the Morn,  
Rapt up in tender dust,  
Guarded with sins and lust,  
Who like Court flatterers waite  
To serve themselves in thy unhappy fate.  
Wealth is a snare, and poverty brings in  
Inlets for theft, paving the way for sin:  
Each perfum'd vanity doth gently breath  
Sin in thy Soul, and whispers it to Death.  
Our faults like ulcerated sores do go  
O're the sound flesh, and do corrupt that too.  
Lord, we are sick, spotted with sin,  
Thick as a crusty Lepers skin,  
Like Naaman, bid us wash, yet let it be  
In streams of blood that flow from thee:  
Then will we sing,  
Touch'd by the heavenly Doves bright wing,  
Hallelujahs, Psalms and Praise  
To God the Lord of night and dayes;  
Ever good, and ever just,  
Ever high, who ever must  
Thus be sung; is still the same;  
Eternal praises crown his Name. Amen.

---

Source: The Golden Grove, Jeremy Taylor. London: Printed by J.F. for R. Royston at the Angel in Ivie-lane, 1655. Text sourced from Project Canterbury (anglicanhistory.org).  
Transcribed from the 1655 first edition by Project Canterbury (Anglican History Project, anglicanhistory.org). Taylor composed The Golden Grove during his years of enforced exile in Wales under the Interregnum, when Anglican worship had been suppressed and he was living under the protection of Richard Vaughan, Earl of Carbery, at the estate from which the book takes its name. The text is in the public domain; Taylor died in 1667. No translator is involved; this is Taylor's own English.